– Congratulations! shouted another large man, laughing brutally and waving his revolver menacingly at the victim. – Nice to see you! You came as if invited.
– He has responded to that announcement, said the woman.
– Well! Let’s just say reporting isn’t worth it, the laugher continued.
– He’s looking for a thrower’s seat.
– Exactly! And he will get out, though not in company, as he has thought. But anyway, sit down so we get to talk.
Mr Dennis Muley just stared at the squabbling group. His fate had to be seen clearly. He had fallen into the trickiest trap he had been able to dream of all his police time. It was just a matter of dying – either a snake poison or a bullet. The latter would certainly be less painful and quicker.
– Is this right? belonged to a parent of both men asking.
– Neither more nor less, replied the younger, who was called
Gaspard. Mr Morgan himself. One of the most stubborn.
“Well, as for that, he’ll soon get more than he needs to stop doing it forever,” said the parent.
And turned to the woman, adding:
– Wasn’t my announcement ingenious? In other case…
– After all, the initiative was mine, as usual, there was an angry answer.
– Of course. But I made a statement.
– According to my dictation, yes. Now just make sure he doesn’t slip up again, because then our business will be even worse.
– Sneak, did you say? The venom of rattlesnake isn’t kicked far in the blood, so you can rest assured about that.
– He should get the ball, too.
– Thank you very much for making the street full of people.
So far Mr Morgan – as his name really was – had not thought. The shot would perhaps gather the crowd and bring salvation.
But didn’t bother trying to shoot right now, just a small movement towards the revolver pocket and he lay on the ground.
Others would instead be allowed to shoot, but not to a solid target.
Following this impulse, he suddenly plunged his head to attack unsuspecting men, and with superhuman force he had, in the next twinkle of an eye, struck one chin and the other an armpit, so that both simultaneously fell to the floor.
The woman grabbed one of the snakes meandering on the floor. He held it in front of him like a snake enchanter, and Mr. Morgan barely avoided another bite when the snake was slammed straight into his face.
With lightning speed, he gave way. For a fraction of a second, he was in a large hall, and the snake flew instead to a third man who rushed out the door to help, but stopped abruptly, shouting in horror, and had enough to do as he tried to get rid of the death-producing beast.
– Belly! Belly! Please help! Here Fred and Gaspard! Please help!
But both Fred and Gaspard had good reason not to hear that ear – more than the other. As if unconscious, they lay motionless on the mat, while the raging woman had a full job assembling the snakes after her knight number three was freed from her dangerous tease. But the snakes were now so irritated that they attacked anyone.
These favorable conditions gave Police Officer Morgan an opportunity to escape during the countdown. However, it didn’t happen through a closed gate, but in such a way that he smashed a broken window and threw himself towards the garden, as well as from there to the street, to rush the fire urgently to the nearest pharmacy.
But it was dark and behind him he heard quick footsteps. At the same time, the ball whistled right on the side of his other cheek. He leaned down and threw himself aside just as the gatekeeper of the game cave, a giant Negro, was about to reach him. But this suddenly turned around as he heard a piercing police whistle and a roaring voice shouting:
– Here, Mexico Maria! Hello, boys! Whakee! Who! Hi ho! There is something fun here.
Morgan heard no more. He had fallen into a pile like an empty sack. The dangerous snake venom had already begun to take effect. The head burned as if it had been filled with molten lead. And the tongue grew into a suffocating clump in the mouth. Things were pretty bad for Mr Morgan, the remaining police officer, the terror of the abusers.
Now stood bowed over him by the young sheriff, Arizona Bert, and next to him, Handsome Harry, and the giant Big Bob, who had let out the frightening cry that had led the pursuing Negro to go to the paw to avoid getting caught.
A shot had been heard and although no such sound in itself was noteworthy in Arizona – much less rare – Arizona Bert and his assistants had rushed out of the “salon” where they were sitting to dine. They had come to Phoenix that evening for the thought that a long-wanted band of robbers was thought to be there.
– This looks bad, this one, said Handsome Harry, illuminating the man with his secret lantern… What is he supposed to be? There is no blood on the clothes.
The young sheriff bowed to look and so did Big Bobkin.
The latter suddenly shouted in his usual noisy way.
– Snake Bite!… Black Blue!… Mexican-Maria!… This is ready for the grave digger because any time… Rattlesnakes, sir!
– Lorua! Rattlesnakes in the city, said Bert, about whom, however, the matter looked suspicious.
– Believe what you want, Mass Bert, but that’s the way it is. I was once at
Points Rock and there…
“Entering the salon,” Bert interrupted, fearing that now would come one of Bob’s long accounts of venomous snakes and others. – Get a doctor immediately. On the way, Harry! Bob and I carry him in. – A doctor or a pharmacist, whichever can only give an antidote if needed.
Handsome Harry disappeared like an arrow looking for a doctor.
Arizona Bert and Big Bob carried the unconscious as gently as possible into the salon and put him on the couch, a side room – the “poker room” that is always in places where death in many forms is an uninvited guest among wild villains and contentious strangers before, but probably not before. like this.
For the more the young sheriff watched in, the more he, too incredible as he seemed, began to lean into the belief that this was dealing with a dangerous serpent venom that would surely end its sacrifice if no help came in time.
– Is there a shortage of doctors in this city? he asked, turning to the kapak host, who opened his mouth with the mouth open.
– We had one the day before yesterday. But it is possible that he is already gone.
– Yes, you see, the thing is that boys prefer to cure their disease themselves. It’s cheaper, and not as life-threatening.
– Yes, you might get too strong a medicine… And mostly get used to whiskey… Besides, the local pharmacist is so damn hard to read the writing, at least the recipes. It’s usually lead poisoning, of course – unless you die right away which is the simplest. Once…
Fortunately, the door opened for the sick in the midst of this private investigation. First came in a man who was an intermediate form between a Methodist preacher and a sausage maker. He had a suitcase in his hand, so wide that it could hold a medium-sized pig. Above all this hung a huge-edged straw hat like a roof, and under it a pair of vaguely colored rat eyes flashed.
This man was a temporary doctor in the city.
Behind him stood Handsome Harry, radiating as if he had found the world’s largest piece of gold.
– What do you think? said Bert, pointing unconscious.
The doctor bowed over the sick man and said resolutely:
– Sold man!
– So he can’t be saved?
– It will be an expensive thing – if it succeeds anyway. But I have to get mine anyway – in advance.
– You get the price.
– tariff more … I evaluation of my work myself, I am Dr. Spike.
– How much do you want?
– One hundred dollars.
– You’ll get ten, Mr. Spike. Take action now.
A man calling himself a doctor turned his back on the young sheriff and planned to leave the “case” to his own devices. But at the door he was met by Bert, who calmly but resolutely said:
– You have a choice, Mr. Spike. Either you cure him with some antidote or…
– Or what?
– You may suffer unpleasant, perhaps fatal consequences.
– What are you like then? said the doctor was about to intercept his revolver, but Bert had time before and placed his own revolver against the man’s chest and said:
– Look like this!
The man looked insured. There was something in Bert’s voice that could hardly be mistaken. Mr Spike put his large suitcase on the floor, opened it, but said:
– Fifteen, though, I get?
– Twenty-five, if you succeed, otherwise not a cent. Put your revolver on that table for now and get along.
Mr Spike obeyed.
He wrapped up his jacket sleeves and began examining the patient. The incident did not seem rare to him at all. He said briefly and clearly:
– Rattlesnake bite.
Subsequent events would tire non-experts. But then after this not so unique doctor in these areas had worked for about half an hour, the sick man slowly opened his eyes and stared in amazement at those standing around. Mr Spike lowered his sleeve, tossed his bag and said as if it were the most natural thing in the world:
– All right! Money here.
Arizona Bert had to laugh. He gave twenty-five dollars and a revolver and said:
– This time you did a double trick.
– Double trick?… What do you mean?
– You saved two lives.
– Yes, his and yours .
– Get down!
And a strange lifeguard disappeared into the serving room, pouring in there a giant wrinkle as if it were just oral water.
Handsome Harry and Big Bob laughed so echoing when they saw the “doctor” take the booze under pressure from the whole chicken and eat it with a glimpse of his days.
But both noises interrupted their laughter and turned their gaze to the two police constables who stepped into the salon with a roll of paper, which they wrapped open and began to nail it to the wall of the room.
– What about the mirror now? said Big Bob – are police going nailing market announcements? Maybe a circus Wild-West-Show?
– Maybe a prom? said Harry, who gladly spun when the opportunity arose.
– Hold on to me!… Make money… Read, boy!
And as Arizona Bert ascended with the saved, both read:
The Thousand Dollar Prize
is promised to anyone who can provide information on where Wholesaler
Gerald Morgan of Vancouver has gotten into.
He has probably disappeared in or
near Phoenix, Arizona, from where his last e-mail was sent,
on Thursday at 10 a.m. –
Below were the hallmarks and other information that both Big Bob and
Handsorne Harry began to explore further.
“That man has got into a hard climb,” Bob said.
– I’m afraid so.
– And now they think the police here can do something.
– It doesn’t look like it.
– Do you know what I would have done in this case if I had been the local police, in other words, if I had had the right to order.
– En. So what? Harry asked.
– I should have kept my mouth shut.
– Then the matter would never have become known.
– But I would have received the money alone.
– You can still get it now.
– It doesn’t work when working for a company.
– In which company?
– With Master Bert and you.
– Hello there, Bob and Harry, the master was heard shouting from the hospital room. Get whiskey and a cup of hot milk. Quickly!
Both comrades got something else to think about. But just as they stepped into the “poker room” where the snake-biting man sat leaning against the corner of the couch – now pale and no longer blue – exclaimed Big Bob:
– See, Harry!
– What so?
– I bet we’ve already got him. Think about how damn angry that saita doctor is. Because he actually saved the man. The man on the couch is none other than Gerald Morgan.